


Clashing Abdominals

by Keirra



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Abs for Days, Cause Pierce would say fuck, Explicit Language, Fynta Wolfe - Freeform, Gen, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Jurr Jinn, Noara Starspark - Freeform, and you cant tell me otherwise, cantina shenanigans, male peacocks doing their thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 14:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keirra/pseuds/Keirra
Summary: Aric Jorgan was used to walking in on strange situations but even so, walking in on Cormac and Pierce's competition to determine who has better abs is one of the stranger ones.





	Clashing Abdominals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cinlat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinlat/gifts).



> This is set in an AU where Noara is part of Cinlat‘s oc Fynta’s Alliance and I will be totally honest, it is a silly cracky fun fic about what would happen if Fynta, Noara, Cormac, Pierce and my trooper oc Jurr were left alone in a bar together.
> 
> Obviously Cinlat owns Fynta, and this version of Cormac is her brain child because she took the npc and gave him the life he deserved (and god I love him so much).

Aric Jorgan was used to walking in on strange situations. It was a common occurrence in his life ever since Fynta showed up, and only became more and more frequent as their unique family grew. Life on Odessen had only amplified it. It was almost as if the Alliance was some sort of magnet for the most excessively boisterous personalities in the universe.

Really it was a miracle they accomplished anything.

But even he had to admit walking into one of the back rooms of the cantina to find Cormac and Pierce shirtless while Fynta and Jurr took turns tossing credits at their abs was high on the list.

“Bloody fucking hell woman,” Pierce snapped when the credit Jurr threw fell directly at his feet. “Throw it properly.”

The eyebrow above her one golden eye arched up dangerously at him. “Don’t be pissy with me just because you’re losing,” she returned, flicking a credit at Cormac’s torso to emphasize her point. The credit hit his abs and ricocheted toward the far side of the room.

Pierce glared at the other man, “I don’t know how but you are cheating.”

Cormac laughed loudly. “How could I be cheating? There is literally nothing up my sleeves,” he said holding up his arms and flexing impressively.

Aric crossed the room to stand next to his wife, watching as Pierce demanded Jurr throw another credit at him. “Do I want to ask what is going on?”

Fynta grinned at him, “Cormac bet Pierce that his abs are better for bouncing a credit off of. Jurr and I have been taking turns throwing ‘em.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the two shirtless men, and then back as his wife. “Alright, how is Cormac winning? They are almost the same physique wise.”

Moving so she was out of Pierce’s line of sight, Fynta subtly gestured to the side of the room. Following her direction, he saw Noara and Torian sitting on a bench against the wall. He hadn’t noticed them before and at first thought it was strange she wasn’t in the thick of things, until he noticed the sly smile she sent his way. She was leaning against Torians side and had her arm hanging down between his legs to keep it out of sight. From Aric’s angle he could see her gesturing slightly everytime Jurr threw a credit chip. Without glancing behind him he could tell who Jurr was aiming at, Noara would gesture toward the floor and Pierce would groan, and jerk her hand to the side when Cormac would guffaw smugly.

Somehow, even after years of working with Sith, it hadn’t occurred to Pierce that a nearby Force user could be influencing the credits. Granted from the angle the soldier had it looked an awful lot like Noara was very preoccupied with the Mandalorian sitting next to her.

“That’s it,” Pierce growled after Noara once again flicked her hand toward the floor making the credit land in the pile at his feet. “You girls are doing this all wrong.”

Aric had his back to the man and could still feel the moment he realized what he had said. Being able to see the glare Fynta was shooting at him, and knowing Jurr well enough to know she was giving just as good, helped.

“I mean,” the Imperial soldier said carefully, “you two are doing this wrong. I demand a new bowler.”

“Really?” Jurr scoffed, “just accept defeat.”

“Never. Jorgan, c’mon help me out here.”

Aric leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling and sighed. He’d wanted to see what trouble his wife was getting into, not join in their antics. Cormac and Jurr both called for him to join them but it wasn’t until Fynta pushed him toward the other men that he gave into the inevitability that he would have to do it.

Making his displeasure known, Aric crossed the room to where Jurr was waiting for him with a fist full of credits. She passed them over with a grin and her usual odd one eyed wink. The Cathar rubbed one of the credits between his fingers as he studied to the men standing in front of him.

“You both look ridiculous,” he said after a moment, “you know that right?”

Cormac laughed and Pierce glared at him. “Just get on with it,” he snapped.

Narrowing his eyes at the Imperial, Aric flicked the credit at him forcefully. Pierce grunted when it hit him harder than any of Jurr’s and cursed loudly when it fell at his feet.

“Asshole,” Pierce muttered, rubbing his abused abs.

Aric grinned at him, flashing sharp teeth, “you’re the one who wanted me to play.”

Pierce scoffed and gestured at Cormac, “you better hit him as hard as you did me.”

Shaking his head, Aric flicked a second credit. As expected, it bounced off his abs and flew toward the back of the cantina.

“Fine,” Pierce growled, throwing his arms up, “you win. This time.”

“And once again the best abs prevail,” Cormac whooped happily and bowed dramatically before starting to collect the credits off the floor.

“Yeah, yeah,” Pierce grumbled, taking the shirt Jurr offered him and pulling it on roughly. “I know you cheated.”

“No proof, no guilt,” Fynta said with a grin. “And now you get to buy the next round.”

Sighing heavily, Pierce nodded before gesturing at Jurr, “come help me carry shit.”

“Oh, you do know how to talk to a lady,” she said, punching him in the arm but starting toward the bar anyway.

As they were passing where Noara and Torian were sitting, Pierce stopped dead. Everyone in the room watched as he stared at the young Jedi who, to her credit, had a great pazaak face as she looked up at him.

“Need something Pierce?” Noara asked, smiling a bit too innocently.

“You know,” he bit out, once the pieces fell into place, “I expect that kind of dishonestly from a Sith, not a Jedi.”

“Ouch, you wound me.”

Pierce folded his arms over his chest, “what did he bribe you with.”

“Not much,” she grinned, raising her hand, waving at something behind him and catching the pouch of credits that flew into her hand. “Just my share of your money.”

Pierce laughed, shaking his head in disbelief as he started toward the bar with Jurr at his elbow, “so much for the poverty of Jedi.”


End file.
